


Harry's Heart in Hand.

by SlySama



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Major Character [sort of] Death, Marionette, Mentions of Lost Souls, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Ownership, Patronus, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Puppeteer, Revelations, beating hearts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:21:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23596018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlySama/pseuds/SlySama
Summary: The Battle for the Wizarding World is coming to a close.The Light side has WON.The Dark side has crumbled to smoldering acrid burning ASH.The Savior has gone missing and a heart sits beating in the palm of Potions Master.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Harry's Heart in Hand.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Harry Potter.

Heart in hand.

The victory was a hollow one. There had been many casualties and the Saviour was yet to resurface from his one on one fight with the Dark Lord. No one knew where this Battle had taken place, but it was presumed to have taken place within the Dark Forest as many creatures had scattered to the outskirts once the inevitable fight had ensued; they were still being rounded-up some 72 hours later by those uninjured.

A search had begun for those still missing as well; it was many but there was hope that some remained alive. No one was sure if that hope was with the Saviour, however. He may have taken down the Dark Lord; the evidence of this quite staggering when all of the Snake’s Death Eater’s had crumpled in the midst of fighting, excluding a few whom Potter presumably saved; somehow.

Like him and young Mister Malfoy, but the young saviour was yet to resurface, and the searchers kept coming back empty-handed. Looking down at the bandage that wound around the staggeringly painful yet beautiful new accoutrement to his left forearm, he sighed when the other particular young man, whinged from across the room.

‘Saved your life Draco.’ He whispered; his throat painful. ‘Show some respect, you owe Potter a great deal for what he did. He didn’t have too.’ He stared at the youth, the man’s lips pouting in annoyance, his own hand pressed atop the scarlet marred bandage.

‘Seriously?’ He hissed, glaring.

‘Yes.’ Was all he said, keeping that eye contact, his voice still low, moderated because he had sustained a pretty huge neck injury he had absolutely no idea how he’d gotten alive away from. He was sure it had been a wicked _Diffindo_ and then a vicious thousand snake bites full of deadly cursed poison. But here he was.

The former blonde aristocrat threw himself back against his multiple pillows and crossed his arms in sulky annoyance, finally allowing Madam Pomfrey to continue her examination of other parts of one her most **difficult** patients.

‘Do you need something else Severus? I believe I’ve already administered pain relievers for the arm recently. Would you like a check over? Perhaps something stronger? Is your throat bothering you?’ The woman had let him leave the Infirmary 24 hours ago.

‘Hm?’ He’d not been listening, his thoughts drifting aimlessly, hand rubbing absently at his covered forearm.

She repeated herself.

Oh. ‘Perhaps another mild reliever for the throat, please. It’s a bit sore.’ When she nodded, hurried away and returned with the asked for potion; he nodded his thanks with a small smile, and turned to Draco. ‘Thank you. I will take my leave now. Draco?’

‘Yes, sir?’ He groused.

‘Behave.’ This was all he said as he left the Infirmary, a stern look set on his lined and pallid features. Perhaps he’d go and see if there were any updates in regards to their boy wonder?

>><<

A groan.

A painfilled groan.

The first thing he noticed was that everything was painful; shifting parts of his body to regain consciousness or even just attempting to open his eyes; hurt. A lot.

This seemed to take a millennia to achieve before the achingly heavy lids would open, when they finally were able, everything was **dark**. He wasn’t sure if that was him, or if it was simply just because it was nightfall and he appeared to be in some manmade clearing encroached by bowing malevolent trees; or at least, they felt this way, somehow.

He couldn’t seem to remember…How…

His whole body struggled upright as he noticed flickering flames of ice-blue, a sickeningly acrid smell of something rotten burning and an odd soft humming nicker emanating from his left. Turning his head painfully toward the noise, to what appeared to be brightly illuminating that corner of the dark space; he made a sound of surprise to note not just one _Patronus_ but **two**. One, his own Stag the other, a Doe.

Wait. Huh? He thought.

How strange. That wasn’t…possible, right? One couldn’t conjure two _Patronus_ , surely? No way. No, of course not. That’s ridiculous. That wasn’t…Snape’s? Right? It was a sweet Doe after all. No. No because then that would be incredibly weird because **_His_** Stag was **nuzzling** his Doe.

He weathered the pain as he righted himself, pushing until he was at least sitting up with his hands keeping him that way on the dirt behind him. He stared at the brightly glowing apparitions for several minutes in wonder and bewilderment. How was that even possible? It didn’t even **look** like Snape was near for the Doe to be around. So if indeed it was Snape’s then, how was it possible?

He glowered momentarily. These two seemed far to close then they should be for this to be a new development. The raven just didn’t seem to understand how this was at all possible because he definitely didn’t believe he was unconsciously casting a _Patronus_. Snape didn’t appear to be around, and there sure as shit didn’t look anybody else around.

It couldn’t be his parent’s right? No, right?

Just to make sure he blinked a few times, physically trying to ignore the pain and phosphorescence from the two majestic and gorgeous manifestations, see if he could actually spot anybody perhaps hiding among the encroaching darkness. ‘Guh.’ He quickly rushed to cover the gag in case it turned into something much worse and ended up falling back to the earth because he’d forgotten both of his hands had been holding him up. ‘Oh. My. God.’ He whispered, staring up into the deep canopy.

The clearing, for that’s what it now was; sparse in the centre with vegetation, interspersed around the outer-edge with patches of sparking blue fire slowing making its way up half of the remaining trees within a short distance, burning their pathways up the charring bark to the fluttering emerald and amber leaves still desperately clinging to the branches. A lot of ash, which he was afraid to identify but could recognise why the scent might have been what it was, why he couldn’t help covering his mouth with his hands as he lay prone on the dirt among the jagged rocks and twisting roots, but he tried to breathe through it; trying to stem the panic attack he could feel was coming.

Humans. Fuck. They were humans, or what remained of them.

He swallowed thickly, tightly closing his eyelids. Had he done this?

It worried him he couldn’t remember.

He really couldn’t, that deeply bothered him. Lifting his hands, dirty from his features he stared at them for a second; if he had, how had he?

The process to stop a panic attack wasn’t easy; in fact, he was sure it probably only got worse before it got only mildly better. The **mildly better** only because he had heard something to give him a jolting shock. A voice. A familiar voice, with more soon following.

He heaved a breath, large inhale, shaky exhale, large inhale, shaky exhale as he struggled to get himself onto his feet, turning wobbly to face where he presumed the group was about to spring from. The voices were getting louder, closer.

He was probably laying there for a while.

He stood, shaking on his toes, body quivering, muscles tense as waited for the group to approach, beginning to argue among themselves, then he noticed something from the corner of his eye. The light from the two _Patronus_ , _Patroni?_ Had cast a weird sort of glow across it; the object seemed to pulse and jump on the ground, shuddering on the dirt as he began nearing it, edging closer. It was hiding among an icy-blue patch of searing fire.

At least, he’d assumed it would be searing; it was oddly cool to the touch as he, not in the least thinking, reached out for it. He had no idea why he would want to know what lay beneath, why it seemed so fascinating, but he started to hear his heart beat racing fast echo through his ears; **Babum, Babum, Babum**.

Odd. That wasn’t **inside** his head…It was…He stared aghast, fingers shaking violently as he kneeled on the charred earth before the flame. **BADUM, BADUM, BADUM**. The noise grew louder, and louder in the silent forest; why had it all of sudden gotten quiet? No. There hadn’t been any sound before.

He was shaking his head, unknowingly. The majestic phosphorescent creatures watching avidly his every wary move. His hand reached out, downwards as his throat seemed to close and he found it immensely hard to swallow. His fingers twitched convulsively before delving down into the Icey flame; the moment faltered, his eyes widened, the beating echo grew louder, deeper, more erratic as he realised; what was beyond, was alive, and not just alive.

The thing now clenched inside his fist was heavy, oddly soft and hard at the same time and though it made no other noises, it seeped something between his trembling fingers. He had only moments to decided what to do before the group reached the edge of the tree line and entered into the shadowed and tragic clearing. He was quick, quicker he thought then he had once been and he drew it behind his back, snapping straight, clicking his bare-feet together.

The object he was now hiding, he was afraid it was his own. His eye twitched and his chest, though he couldn’t fathom how now, heaved an enormous sigh as he heard the echoing **badum, badum, badum**.

He swallowed when they finally noticed he was standing there, in the darkness, barely illuminated, covering up what no one should see, and hoping dearly he was just in some incredibly hard to awaken from, nightmare.

He probably made quite a sight; batted, bruised, covered in blood and barely about to focus his eyes on any one thing, let alone on any one person now staring at him. His fist clenched almost painfully around the pulsing object behind him.

‘Gees. Potter. **Fuck!** ’ The former Death Eater was holding his chest and taking large gulps of the acrid stench rather than any real fresh air. Apparently, of course, Harry standing in such carnage, apparently completely “alive” and awake, was shocking.

The raven blinked, tilting his head just slightly. That probably looked quite creepy, given the circumstances but there appeared to be something **odd** about the blonde Slytherin. As if…

Harry sniffed the air discreetly, experimentally; his nose scrunched a moment. Wolf. Malfoy smelt like WOLF. Harry didn’t even know what “Wolf” smelt like, which was strange because that’s what the blonde **definitely** smelt like.

‘Potter what on Merlin’s name. What are you doing?!’

Harry flinched. <What does he mean, “What am I doing?”>

‘Potter.’

Harry continued to just stare.

‘Potter!’ He shouted, advancing threateningly and snapping his fingers before Harry’s unfocused emerald irises; his wand appeared and that began waving frantically in the air when he continued to ignore the older man.

<Why is he shouting at me?>

‘Hey! Come on, get a grip! Snap out of it!’ A louder snap echoed and then resonated not only around the forest, disturbing nothing but the moaning trees, it went through Harry’s eardrums like nothing he’d known before. The noise rattled along his internal acoustic meatus, through the petrous temporal bone and right through to the pons and medulla oblongata.

Then his whole body spasmed as a hand reached around him, grabbing; he dropped the precious object as he started and grabbed the wrist that was about to once more snap fingers before his nose like a viper striking it’s prey.

He growled. <Wow. What was that?>

Snape was now sneering, trying to regain his captured appendage whilst simultaneously trying to vainly regain a non-cast and definitely uncooperative _Patronus_. Harry almost snickered, the man wasn’t even looking; he was staring at the seared earth beneath them, and around them probably. This was something Harry found very strange as he finally let go of his surprisingly tight grip; his fingertips had begun to painfully ache.

Snape’s glower was intense, his throat, teeth and lips were hissing. His dark obsidian irises were pools of searing abyss when they locked with his. A hand was now rubbing the red mark left by Harry’s fingers on his wrist.

‘Uh. Professor? I didn’t know you had a Patronus but why is it trying to get Intimate with Potter’s?’ This was Malfoy rather hesitantly, a finger lowly pointing.

Snape only intensified his hissing, and his glare.

‘…What’s that?’

A heavy sigh. ‘What. Is what, Mister Weasley?’ He growled, his magic useless.

‘UH. That. There. Right behind Harry, sir. It looks like it’s moving?’ He gulped as he pointed with a wand that was shaking, his whole body shifting uncomfortably next to Hermione who was looking just as uneasy but intently staring around her, at Harry and at the _Patronus_ , and now; at the thing behind Harry that Ron asked, “Isn’t **Him** , right?” 

‘By “Him”, I presume Weasley you mean the Dark Lord? In which case…’ Snape paused in his unsuccessful attempts to make the two deer’s part and turned back toward the raven before him, then dropped to the ground, leaned around him, and withdrew whatever it was from the ground with cleverly thought dragonhide glove now covering his right hand. ‘…The answer, would be “No”. It is not a part of the Dark Lord; however, it is a part of **something**.’ His nose was scrunched as he stared down at the deeply pulsing organ.

He hummed, a thumb pressing the scarlet flesh.

 **Badum, Badum, Badum, Badum, Badum, Badum, Badum**. The organ began to beat rather quickly as the Professor stared intently down at it.

‘It’s a heart.’ He said.

A moment seemed to stretch for an eternity as the rest of the group crowded around the both of them. Peering at the thumping, bleeding organ in the centre of Snape’s hand. Harry was frozen stiff. <What do I do?>

Someone swallowed. ‘Why was there a heart behind Potter?’

<Ah. Malfoy.>

<<>>

Good God. It’s Potter’s.

He couldn’t help the small noise that escaped at this question, at this revelation. How on earth had Potter’s HEART separated from his body, and how on earth is the man still standing there, BREATHING, before them?!

Trying not to make any outwards signs this was quite alarming to him, he took a couple of steps backwards, withdrew a handkerchief from inside his coat pocket, wrapped the precious treasure within and stuck it as gentle as he could back inside the warm inner-lining of his coat pocket.

‘UH, Professor?’

‘Yes?’ He said stiffly.

‘Why did you pocket it?’

‘For further study back at the castle of course. Now.’ He said, removing the dragonhide glove, disinfecting the tough material as well as his own hands before pocketing this accessory too; he stared back up at the unmoving raven. ‘Are you…harmed in anyway?’ He questioned, unsure if the teen would answer him, considering he actually **looked** comatose. ‘Do you need medical attention right this minute?’ He further said, staring intently into the pallid features. The boy’s green eyes were standing out in stark contrast.

What the hell had happened here?

Had Potter been in here the whole time? Perhaps they should have used Draco sooner to find the idiot Saviour? Sniff him out so to speak, since that was what the blonde had ended up doing when he said he smelt the other male by the edge of the Dark Forest.

Surely Potter had not been in here, like **this** , for the last 72 hours?

And why the **FUCK** were their _Patronus_ practically mating?! He hadn’t conjured his own either, he knew this for certain now because the animal refused to return, that, and he was not senile; his wand had not produced such a charm during the “Battle of Hogwarts.”

‘Potter.’ He said roughly.

The teen blinked at him.

He huffed, momentarily closing his eyes to the distress he felt. Right. ‘Come along then, Madam Pomfrey will give you a thorough thrice over, I’m sure.’ He grabbed the teen’s wrist, and bodily began dragging him back to the edge of the copse of trees; it was strangely easy. The man didn’t say a word.

They were right up on the castle when a whisper broke the tight atmosphere that surround their small party of five. ‘Hu—

They froze.

Snape turned slowly, staring at the drawn _Lumos_ illuminated face of the Saviour. ‘Beg your pardon?’

The teens eyes seemed to close painfully, his wrist trying to unsuccessfully remove itself from Snape’s tight grip. ‘ ** _Hurts_**.’

<Huh?>

‘Oh! You’re grip Professor. Your grip!’

He turned to Granger, frowned and then turned back. He loosened the grip and raised a brow, ‘Better?’

A small nod.

‘Very well.’ He didn’t entirely let go though, making sure the teen would actually follow them back to the castle. He was strangely obedient. He hoped that didn’t have anything to do with the heart that beat rapidly against his hip. 


End file.
